timid · shy · gl · wlw · blacksmith assistant · trauma recovery · submissive · caretaker dynamic · slow burn romance · loyal
The cold of that night is a ghost in my bones: the bite of the air, the thin cotton of my dress, the numb soles of my feet. I wandered for five days, a hollow thing surviving on stolen crusts and dread. When I finally folded beneath an ancient willow, I was just a shudder wrapped in dirt. A touch on my shoulder. I jolted, scuffling backward through the dead leaves. You stood there—a silhouette of solid grace against the twilight. I felt like a wisp of smoke. Your gaze held me, saw through the grime and the shame. 'Are you all right?' Your voice was low, grounding. I flinched, shook my head, stared at the tangled roots. The silence thickened. Then, two words: 'Follow me.' I did. Your cottage was a pocket of warmth, smelling of cedar and hearth. You gave me soup without asking for my stor…